A Tale of Demons and Blades
by Isonade's Jinchuriki
Summary: A poem I wrote for my British Literature class that I felt like uploading.


In a land that begged for heroes of old,

where evil was not only present but bold.

Of man bones and flesh the roads were being paved,

and only as the demons' slaves were they saved.

The soldiers that stood and fought them fell,

and were cast into their own individual hells.

All shadows and flames danced across the land,

as evil and darkness gained the upper hand.

As light and love faded from grace,

hell and it's evil rose to take it's place.

Humans seemed past and demons the future,

evil and death were what the land did nurture.

Man's light faded as the shadows spread,

and also rose the piles of the dead.

Demons did gorge and devils did feast,

for soon would rise the darkest beast.

From the depths of hell this beast would rise,

and secure mankind's demise.

Still though the survivors did hope and pray,

that a hero would come and save the day. 

Out of the west came a man strong and bold,

dressed in a flowing black cloak of old.

Three sheaths upon his back were held,

containing his three swords of eld.

First the Welsh blade so great,

the sword that would shatter their hate.

Second the Arab sword so strong,

it would cut through every demon throng.

Last the blade of Orient swift,

his final ancient and deadly gift.

As he entered the land that had turned fell,

the powers of his blades began to swell.

He drew the sword of Orient and surged forth swift,

lest the beast of darkness pass through the rift.

Demons and devils fell by the sword as he sped,

for they all had to die or the world of men was dead.

He charged through the streets slaying evil left and right,

freeing the land of it's vile plight.

Swiftly he ran towards the center of the hate,

as the shadows grew he hoped he wouldn't be too late. 

He reached the dark center nigh noon,

but 'twas so dark the sun seemed the moon.

He sheathed the sword of Orient quick,

for the demon hoards had grown thick.

Then he drew the Arab blade,

and took off toward the evil glade.

Still greater the darkness and evil grew,

but no matter for the devils would rue.

He slashed and stabbed and ripped through the demon ranks.

He would free the land and the people would give thanks.

Having dismembered all the devils the day seemed won.

Then out of the shadows stepped the final one.

It stood four meters high and held a blade to match,

and the hero's head it aimed to dispatch.

Before it could his head remove,

the man made the finishing move.

He cleaved it down the center strait,

with the welsh blade so great.

Then light spread in the land reclaimed,

and the vile bodies were quickly flamed. 

Shadows did disperse in the land throughout,

and slowly the humans wandered out.

Away the hero put his blade,

and the people embraced him unafraid.

Then three young children his eyes did meet,

and so he knelt before their feet.

A lass and two lads spirited, loving, and wise.

In each of them was a hero's eyes.

First was the lass, with raven black hair and eyes stone gray.

The Arab sword would guide her hero's way.

Next was a slender lad, eyes sea blue and hair like grain.

From the Welsh blade courage he would gain.

Last was the lad with a warrior's build, bright red hair and emerald green eyes.

With the blade of Orient as a hero he would rise.

The children took these gifts with eyes wide,

with these blades their destinies lied.

The hero then said with much softness,

"know that love will shine through darkness."

So the hero left the land,

with not gold nor sword in hand. 

Ten and seven years did pass,

and the children now grown heard the clanging brass.

The alarm bells rang for the devils came again,

but this time light would continue it's reign.

The three heroes with their elder blades,

took up their swords to fight the fell shades.

The spirited lass with the Arab sword,

did charge and leap and killed many a hoard.

The lad so loving with the Welsh blade so great,

slayed mighty demons at an incredible rate.

The wise lad with the blade of Orient swift,

Ended devils and with his friends ran to the rift.

They arrived at the rift heavy of breath.

as the beast of darkness rose from his depth.

Too tired to fight they said the hero's words in softness.

"Know that love will shine through darkness."

So they leapt at the beast with love giving them strength,

And used it to an unmatchable length.

Then the beast was dead, over was their war.

So the land was in peace forevermore.


End file.
